All The Good Girls Go To Heaven
I Can't Hurt You Anymore
We approached the girl’s house, the windows for any sign of movement. A shadowy punch was thrown by a muscular arm, and they heard the scream of a girl. Definitely the right house. The same girl from the concert, the one who wrote the poem, ran right past us. Her eyes were swollen shut with tears and bruises, leaving her blind and stumbling. We entered the open door, watching her father slam a newspaper onto the wooden table. He hadn’t noticed us... yet.
“I told you not to bother me! How many times do I have to punish you toni-- you’re not Amy.” He said, turning around. Skylar locked the door as Gerard and I prepared our victim. This one supposedly deserved it. Time to rip my knife into flesh once again. The familiar crunch of bone would be nice tonight. This one is fighting back, throwing punched wildly at us. Good thing a pair of handcuffs were so lovingly ‘donated’ by the local police department. I struggled with his hands for a minute before locking them behind his back. I tied a piece of cloth around his mouth and head, using it to silence him instead of the usual tape. Gerard pinned him down to a chair using brute force. He’s so strong. I stabbed my knife into his hands and feet several times, as Gerard used his to remove the man’s eyes. Skylar, as always, stood there until her finishing touches were needed. His muffled screams sounded so good. I ripped into his arms, detaching his muscles from his bones. He can’t hurt anyone anymore. I separated him into two piles. Muscle and everything else, besides the muscles in his face, that is. I have to keep that nice. Skylar made sure there was nothing relating him to us, and made him smile. We hear the girl... Amy... coming back into the house. Her sobs were less frequent, but her eyes were still unseeing. We snuck out of the house before her sight returned, leaving just enough time to hear her scream for her back yard. Back home, back to my bed. Then we do it all again tomorrow.
It’s cold in my room, but I don’t have any extra blankets. Damn. I guess I’ll ask Mikey. Gerard would probably give me his own, but I don’t want him to be cold. I walked into Mikey and Skylar’s room to find the covers still rippling with the movement’s of their bodies. That’s a bit odd, but okay. I also found a diary, signed with ‘Jillian’, but it was crossed out with Skylar next to it. I can’t help but think that I’ve heard that name before? Ah, well. For now, I’m going to ask for a blanket and leave. I’m much to tired to deal with my memory now. Tomorrow, perhaps? Or maybe never...
“Can I get a blanket?” I asked. Mikey popped his head out from under the covers and tossed one at me.
“There. Leave.” He said curtly, before disappearing again. Odd...
“I told you not to bother me! How many times do I have to punish you toni-- you’re not Amy.” He said, turning around. Skylar locked the door as Gerard and I prepared our victim. This one supposedly deserved it. Time to rip my knife into flesh once again. The familiar crunch of bone would be nice tonight. This one is fighting back, throwing punched wildly at us. Good thing a pair of handcuffs were so lovingly ‘donated’ by the local police department. I struggled with his hands for a minute before locking them behind his back. I tied a piece of cloth around his mouth and head, using it to silence him instead of the usual tape. Gerard pinned him down to a chair using brute force. He’s so strong. I stabbed my knife into his hands and feet several times, as Gerard used his to remove the man’s eyes. Skylar, as always, stood there until her finishing touches were needed. His muffled screams sounded so good. I ripped into his arms, detaching his muscles from his bones. He can’t hurt anyone anymore. I separated him into two piles. Muscle and everything else, besides the muscles in his face, that is. I have to keep that nice. Skylar made sure there was nothing relating him to us, and made him smile. We hear the girl... Amy... coming back into the house. Her sobs were less frequent, but her eyes were still unseeing. We snuck out of the house before her sight returned, leaving just enough time to hear her scream for her back yard. Back home, back to my bed. Then we do it all again tomorrow.
It’s cold in my room, but I don’t have any extra blankets. Damn. I guess I’ll ask Mikey. Gerard would probably give me his own, but I don’t want him to be cold. I walked into Mikey and Skylar’s room to find the covers still rippling with the movement’s of their bodies. That’s a bit odd, but okay. I also found a diary, signed with ‘Jillian’, but it was crossed out with Skylar next to it. I can’t help but think that I’ve heard that name before? Ah, well. For now, I’m going to ask for a blanket and leave. I’m much to tired to deal with my memory now. Tomorrow, perhaps? Or maybe never...
“Can I get a blanket?” I asked. Mikey popped his head out from under the covers and tossed one at me.
“There. Leave.” He said curtly, before disappearing again. Odd...
